


Sooner or Later

by Ayngondaia



Series: The Cost of Love [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blood, Dismemberment, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), don't worry it's ok they get some superglue and stick em back on there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngondaia/pseuds/Ayngondaia
Summary: ''Hey, stay with me,'' he says, and Sky clings to the words to keep awake, ''we did it.''They did it. That’s a relief.In the distance, he spots Warriors trudging back at a leisurely pace before he pumps both fists in the air in victory. A smile threatens to split Sky’s face. The dust settles——and anguished sobbing, wailing, breaks their small moment of peace.
Relationships: Sky & Wind (Linked Universe)
Series: The Cost of Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824265
Comments: 15
Kudos: 245





	Sooner or Later

**Author's Note:**

> i lure you in with cute brotherly bonding in one fic and then slam you in the face with stuff like this. that's my specialty.
> 
> anyway thanks for the warm reception on my last fic!!!! it was wonderful and i hope this one's pretty good too.

Heart pounding, chest heaving – _deep breaths,_ deep breaths. Stay focused.  
  
A moblin charges into his vision’s periphery. Sky swivels on his feet and raises his shield just before the moblin crashes into him. His arm throbs at the impact, which sends him skidding backwards and out of the fray. Dust clings to his lips. Sweat travels down his forehead in pearly beads.  
  
_What a warm welcome,_ he thinks. Just minutes into a new Hyrule, and already a rag-tag team of monsters had come hurtling down the hills to greet them with spears, fangs, and a lust for blood.  
  
Clad in black-rusted armor, the moblin that’s been singling him out for the past minute strengthens its grip on the crude spear in its wart-covered hands and releases a guttural war cry, swinging the weapon back over its shoulder to gain momentum and crash the tip into—  
  
Sky rolls out of the way underneath the creature’s arm, having narrowly avoided the spearhead aimed at his neck. The Master Sword hums within his grasp in quiet encouragement. He swings the blade in a wide arch and slices into the moblin’s armpit – and _deep._ Black tar-like blood squirts out from the wound and onto his sleeve, drawing a wince from him.  
  
_Great._ _That’s gonna be an ordeal to wash out._  
  
A howl cuts his thoughts short. The moblin swings at him again, a new-found fury burning behind its every move, and Sky prays the others are holding up against their own monsters. Fire whizzes past him – from a magic rod or a lizalfos, he does not know. Cannot tell.  
  
A swift stab into its ankle, and the moblin topples over onto its stomach, flailing its limbs wildly. Sky inhales a sharp breath and rushes forward, thrusting his sword into the creature’s rib cage. An ocean’s worth of blood spills from the wound, and the moblin gives one last, pitiful cry before finally going limp.  
  
He’s _heaving._ He knows he is. Barely able to get enough air into his lungs from the adrenaline, his mind starts to swim – but the fight is nearly over. In the corner of his eye, he sees Legend unsheathe the knife strapped to his belt and plunge it deep into the roof of a lizalfos’ snarling maw. Wild nocks another arrow and releases – it sails through the air, plunging into the head of another lizalfos that had been looming over Wind, who sits hunched on the ground, his sword and shield laying too far away for him to reach.  
  
Warriors bolts off toward the treeline, making mincemeat of some cowardly, fleeing bokoblins. Far in the distance, he spots Time and Twilight, finishing off the last of the moblins that had led the attack.  
  
Once more, his head swims – his vision sways, consciousness plunging into deep, cold waters, and—  
  
—before he can topple forward, there’s a presence beside him – Four. _Four,_ who uses his entire body to keep him upright, despite the blood trickling down the pale of his neck.  
  
‘’Hey, stay with me,’’ he says, and Sky clings to the words to keep awake, ‘’we did it.’’  
  
_They did it._ That’s a relief.  
  
In the distance, he spots Warriors trudging back at a leisurely pace before he pumps both fists in the air in victory. A smile threatens to split Sky’s face. The dust settles—  
  
—and anguished sobbing, _wailing,_ breaks their small moment of peace.  
  
Sky turns his head sharply to the sound. Despite the battle being over, Wind remains on the ground, hunched over and clutching his hand as if it might turn to dust, a river of blood pouring from between his palms and coating the front of his shirt in a dreadful crimson hue.  
  
Terror lodges itself in Sky’s throat.  
  
There’s something small and red lying in the dirt – a finger. _Two fingers._  
  
He can’t breathe. He tries to cough, and swallow, but white-hot tendrils of fear crawl up his spine, snaking around his lungs and squeezing harder with every wail that tears through the valley. He wants to look away, but he can’t. He _can’t._  
  
_That’s his brother._  
  
A brown mop of hair – Hyrule – whizzes past him and falls to his knees inches from Wind, swiftly gathering the small, bloody appendages from the ground – as if it’s a normal day, and he’s out picking mushrooms with Wild, or scouring for a slug to spook Warriors with, not… _not—_  
  
Legend rushes over, already pulling an ice rod out of his bottomless bag, and Wild is quick to follow, procuring a whole array of potions and concoctions from his own satchel.  
  
Despite his mind blanking, he feels a tug on his arm, registering it as Four pulling him forward with all his might. In a snap, he comes back to the here and now, and runs, Four hot on his heels.  
  
Sky drops knees-first into the grass, red from blood and black with soot, and nearly hurls. A third finger hangs on by a mere tendril, and Wind is wheezing, _desperate_ for air, shedding enough tears to flood the Lanayru Desert. His tear tracks glitter underneath Hyrule’s healing, golden light, and Sky scrubs them away, desperate not to look at the damage once more.  
  
‘’One,’’ Hyrule says after an eternity, voice tremulous.  
  
Feet pounding across the grass alert him – Warriors skids to a stop behind Wind, quickly takes note of the situation, and pulls Wind into his lap without another word. Four, who had been rubbing circles between Wind’s shoulder blades, moves to take hold of Wind’s uninjured hand, whispering to him to breathe. Twilight and Time come climbing up the hill only seconds later, potions and fairies at the ready.  
  
With Wind being taken care of, Sky moves closer to Hyrule, deciding to keep him upright as he works his magic. A steady stream of sweat trickles down the boy’s temple, and his gaze is more intense and focused than Sky has ever witnessed before.  
  
Wild pulls out a magic potion, holding the bottle’s rim to Hyrule’s lips. The liquid glows softly in the growing darkness, coloring his pale skin a sickly green. ‘’Drink,’’ Wild commands, and Hyrule greedily gulps the liquid down, some color returning to his cheeks.  
  
It feels like ages until he speaks again.  
  
‘’Two.’’  
  
Sky can’t bear to look anymore. With closed eyes, he presses his ear to the space between Hyrule’s shoulder blades, feeling the thrum of his erratic, desperate heartbeat.  
  
Wind, who has been reduced to sniffles – a stark contrast to the brave boy they know – recounts to them what happened, hiccups interrupting his tale every so often.  
  
A lizalfos, salivating black, had kept targeting him, pushing him further and further away from them. It had struck with its tail, knocking his shield to the ground – and had followed up immediately after with a vicious slice of its curved blade.  
  
Sky’s hands tremble with anger. That monster deserved something _worse_ than an arrow to the head.  
  
… It feels like hours until the sigh of relief sweeps through their little circle.  
  
Hyrule, completely spent, collapses against Sky, who wraps the traveler in his sailcloth. Wind’s face is red and blotchy, eyelids swollen and silvery tear tracks drying on his cheeks as he moves his fingers experimentally – and they respond sluggishly. New tears well up in his eyes, which are quickly wiped away by Warriors and Twilight, who both haven’t let go of him the entire hour. Time produces a cloth and his canteen to wipe the blood from their hands, his movements slow and ever so gentle.  
  
A deep sigh rattles through him as he pulls Hyrule closer.  
  
_Finally,_ he can breathe again.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
That night, Wild’s ladle trembles in his grasp.  
  
He’s not the only one who’s shaken by the day, it seems. Despite the heavenly aroma wafting up from the bowl of pumpkin soup in his hands, it tastes like nothing on Sky’s tongue. All Wild receives is a soft chorus of ‘thanks’ as he finishes passing out bowls to everyone.  
  
It takes a lot of effort to get Wind to eat, and practically none to get him to bed. Now, he lays away from the fire, practically swaddled in his blankets, his face turned away from the light.  
  
Though Sky has to fight against the sweet lull of sleep, he pledges to stay awake. He won’t rest until he sees the soft rise and fall of Wind’s chest with his own two eyes.  
  
An hour passes, filled with frog song and chirping crickets. At some point Warriors pulls out a book to pass the time (or perhaps to take his mind off of things), and Twilight takes Four to do yet another perimeter check with him. Hyrule, who’s dozing securely in Time’s arms, blinks awake from time to time. Legend busies himself with glaring at the grass as if it has personally wronged him, digging a hole in the soft dirt with his heel.  
  
Sky looks up at the stars once more, trailing all the little pinpricks of light with his eyes, and sighs.  
  
It seems a hollow kind of restlessness is plaguing them all tonight.  
  
Some time later, Four and Twilight return and promptly set up their bedrolls, trying to catch some shut-eye despite it all. After some badgering, Warriors goes to hit the hay as well instead of doing one last patrol of the area. Even Legend goes to bed early for once, standing up with an irritated huff and moving away from the fire pit without another word.  
  
Some minutes later, after having watched his companions drift off into a dreamless sleep, Sky hears a tense intake of breath to his right.  
  
‘’We were lucky today,’’ Time says, voice soft so as not to wake the boys scattered around camp. ‘’A very twisted sort of lucky.’’  
  
Sky finds himself glancing back at Wind, eyes settling on the boy’s sleeping form. ‘’That was _awful,_ ’’ he says, drawing his knees closer. A part of him immediately wishes he could take those words back, and say them again with less despair, without the broken twang of helplessness lacing his every word.  
  
That’s how they all feel, don’t they? Helpless. If only they’d been faster. If only they’d paid more attention. Then, they could’ve avoided all of this. Wind wouldn’t have had to go through _this._  
  
‘’The wound wasn’t even the worst part,’’ Sky continues, tongue moving faster than he could keep up with, ‘’though that wasn’t pleasant to look at either. The worst part, I— _his—_ ‘’  
  
He doesn’t need to say any more. A quick glance around the dying fire, and he finds exactly what he’d been expecting: _understanding._  
  
Wind’s cries of agony had been utterly heartbreaking.  
  
Across the fire pit sits Wild, chin in his hands, staring at the fading embers with an unreadable expression. Time looks down at Hyrule, napping in the crook of his arm, his eyes down-cast and empty.  
  
The small hour they had taken to set up camp, Wind had been inconsolable. He’d just kept on holding his fingers, silently weeping throughout dinnertime up until he could finally shuffle into his cocoon of blankets.  
  
They’ve all seen the dozens of scars littering Wind’s skin, and heard the dozens of tales associated with each one. A cooking mishap, a bokoblin that got a little too ballsy, a tumble down some stairs – every story was told with an air of nonchalance, as if they were all little accidents that happen to the best and were something to be brushed off minutes later.  
  
Now, Sky wonders how many of those tales were false. How much did Wind downplay his experiences, just so he wouldn’t garner their worry – or worse, their pity?  
  
He wraps his sailcloth a little tighter around himself to stave off the night chill. Lost for words, he glances between his friends once more, their eyes as haunted as his own.  
  
‘’You’re not asleep,’’ Time states, ‘’are you?’’  
  
…  
  
‘’No,’’ comes Wind’s voice, soft as the breeze. He rolls over to face them, untangling himself from his blankets. In what little light remains, Sky can see the tear tracks clinging to his cheeks still.  
  
Time shifts his position on the fallen log slightly, adjusting his grip on Hyrule. ‘’Come on,’’ he says, beckoning, ‘’come here.’’  
  
Wind trudges over, blanket around his shoulders, and gets an arm wrapped around him the moment he sits down next to Time. He stares at his feet, looking at yellow dandelions poking through the grass and the hole Legend had dug hours ago as if they are the most interesting thing in the world.  
  
‘’We should talk,’’ Time says, ‘’about what happened. Don’t you think so?’’  
  
Wind shrugs. ‘’I guess.’’  
  
He doesn’t really look like he wants to talk. Sky notes the crossed arms, avoidant scowl, and is reminded all too much of Zelda whenever Groose got on her nerves for the umpteenth time, or when she’d been in an argument with her father. Just being close to her, then, had always done the trick.  
  
So he stands and walks over, plopping down on Wind’s other side, and drapes his sailcloth over the little sailor and Time’s arm. He looks up for just a second at Sky, a ghost of a smile on his lips.  
  
‘’I’m guessing you heard what we said?’’ Time continues.  
  
‘’Mh-mm.’’  
  
‘’Alright then.’’ A pause. ‘’I know none of you want to hear this, but… something like this was bound to happen sooner or later.’’  
  
Across the fire, he sees Wild visibly wince at those words. Wind clenches his jaw, blinking away the few tears he has left in him.  
  
‘’The road ahead is becoming more dangerous. Had it not been Wind, it would’ve been me, or one of you. Going forward, we shou—‘’  
  
‘’Can—'' Wild interrupts, looking more pained and uncomfortable by the second, ‘’—can we... talk about something else? _Please?_ This isn’t helping.’’  
  
Sky wraps his arms a bit tighter around Wind, who’s trembling like a leaf despite his blanket and the sailcloth wrapped snugly around him.  
  
‘’Are you okay?’’ he asks softly.  
  
Wind nods, yet his eyes tell a different story.  
  
‘’I’m okay,’’ he says. ‘’Now, at least. Sort of.’’ Another shrug. Sky takes Wind over from Time, pulling the boy closer to share his body warmth with him – Zelda had always joked he was like a walking furnace. ‘’I… it hurt so much. And I—I was…’’  
  
‘’… scared?’’ Sky supplies.  
  
A wobbly smile appears on the boy’s lips. ‘’It feels stupid to say that.’’  
  
Wild rises from the grass and walks over, plonks down in front of them, and begins to use Sky’s legs as an armrest. ‘’Because of, y’know…’’ he trails off, then settles on making a triangle with his thumbs and index fingers, gaze inquisitive.  
  
Wind nods, and Sky’s heart breaks all over again.  
  
‘’It doesn’t quite work like that,’’ says Sky. ''It’s more courageous to admit you had a moment of weakness than to shrug it off like it was nothing.’’ He pauses, trying to ignore the warmth in his cheeks. ‘’At least, that’s what I think.’’  
  
Nodding once more, Winds rubs a sleeve against the underside of his nose, inhaling sharply. Sky makes a mental note to buy him a cloth handkerchief when they next find themselves in a town.  
  
‘’It hurt to get ‘em back on,’’ Wind continues, hiccuping through his words – Wild places a hand on his knee, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb. ‘’It h—hurts to move ‘em now, and I d—didn’t, I thought—‘’  
  
_That it’d go wrong,_ goes unsaid. _That I’d become a liability._  
  
Time brushes a hand through Wind’s unruly locks. ‘’It’s like I said: we were lucky. We were close by, we had items, Hyrule practically drained himself to help you – and now you can heal.’’  
  
‘’And,’’ Wild says, ‘’even if things had gone differently, we’d still be there to help you. You’d still be our sailor, even with a finger or two less.’’ He thumbs his left ear (or, the half that remains of it), pulling back his hair to show its scarred edges. ‘’I can’t exactly grow this back either. We could make a club. The missing-a-chunk club.’’  
  
Wind snorts at that, thankfully, and it is like music to Sky’s ears.  
  
‘’We can still make that club,’’ Time says. ‘’I’m missing two toes.’’ At the raised eyebrows and incredulous gazes thrown his way, Time lets out a soft chuckle. ‘’Before you go swimming, always check for river monsters. That’s all I will say on that.’’  
  
‘’Spear through the foot?’’ Wild asks and, surprisingly, even Wind looks a little curious.  
  
‘’No,’’ Time smiles. ‘’Teeth.’’  
  
‘’Ouch.’’  
  
Hyrule takes that moment to stir awake. His eyelids flutter open and he glances around in Time’s tight hold, spotting Wind sitting on the man’s other side. ‘’Hey buddy,’’ he slurs, reaching over and gently grabbing Wind’s uninjured hand. ‘’How ya doing? Does it hurt?’’  
  
‘’A little.’’  
  
‘’It’ll fade,’’ he yawns, and stretches, his joints popping loudly. ‘’Lemme know tomorrow if it’s gotten better. It should be.’’  
  
Carefully, Sky reaches for Wind’s other hand, making sure not to brush against any of the injured fingers. Instead, he nudges his hand underneath so their palms are touching, and he can gently curl his fingers around Wind’s thumb – nothing more, nothing less. Wind’s hand is clammy, but all Sky does is hold on, not daring to let go.  
  
Soon, they all migrate to their bedrolls, Wind now wrapped in both his blankets and the sailcloth still tied around Sky’s shoulders. He pulls Wind closer, tucking the boy’s head underneath his chin to share his warmth during the chilly night. Though much is left unsaid, he knows a burden has been lifted from Wind’s shoulders – his breathing is calm, his brow relaxed.  
  
Sky wishes he could say the same for himself. Though their talk has helped somewhat, flashes of what had happened still haunt him every time he tries to close his eyes.  
  
It seems sleep will elude him for the night. But it’ll be fine. Tomorrow, things will be better.  
  
Tomorrow, they will heal.


End file.
